camp THE LOSING EDGE \ fur growth?

[FERNGILL]

A yawn split Fernpaw's tiny maw as he exited the apprentice's den, dawn's pale light barely freeing the surroundings from their silhouettes. Another day of work, and he was ready for it- ready to finally succeed! He was sure today would be the day- it had to be. After so many fishing lessons, how could it not have stuck yet? No- there was going to be a moment today where something clicked, where the solution finally thrust itself forward in his head and he would succeed! Optimism surged from him, fire-light fervent in a pond water gaze, pin-teeth half-revealed in the curvature of his maw.

To find Dad- that was his first mission. Distraction's fickle paws had other plans, though- attention was tugged away when Fernpaw noticed the glimmer of something, reflective. It was him, staring right back.

It was not as if Fernpaw had never looked at his reflection before, but there was something different about it today. Still kit-sized, eyes still bulging out of his skull, paws still oversized yet attached to short, spindled legs... what was it? There- around his eye- darker markings that had just been skin before. His chest, too- the patch that had been sparse, almost devoid, of pelt for so long had grown in! When had that happened? Had he been too busy to notice?

Excitement crackled from him as bug-eyes moved to check the ring upon his tail- ah. No, that one was still there, that ring- but that was alright! Hey, this meant that his tail might grow thicker with fur one day, too! A chunky paw swiped over the new-ish fur upon his chest, just to check that it was there, it was real- puffed out, pride surged from Fernpaw in waves.​

( penned by pin )​

 

[Steepsnout]

WE'RE TAKING OVER THE WORLD, A LITTLE VICTIMLESS CRIME ➳​

Striding from the den after her brother, Steeppaw gave a great stretch mid-step, a sure showing of her excellent musculature. Totally. The insipid hue of the sky distracted her for a moment, blunt chin thrust tall. Once her thoughts had settled, she jogged to catch up with Fernpaw.

"Mornin' bro, wha-" Her cheery greeting fizzled to a look of confusion at his odd posturing. Visage whittled into a bemused questioning, the apprentice watched the scraggly tabby. What was the fuss being made here, he looked the same as always didn't he? Tracking his gaze to the mirror image below, Steeppaw peeped obviously at it. Same as always... wait-

"Hey! You're lookin' fluffy today- gonna have a good hefty armour in no time." The salt-bespeckled molly knocked his shoulder, a little rougher than usual, and circled him. Maybe he'd get as big as her one day and they could spar!
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[CLAYFUR]

Clayfur likes to think he’s a good warrior. He likes to think he’s a good friend and a good clanmate and a good swimmer, too. But above all, he wants to be a good uncle. So when he spots two of Icesparkle’s kits hanging out, the dark brown tabby trots his way over to greet them. He’s quick to note the way Fernpaw’s paw slides over his fluffy chest—and, oh! There wasn’t hair there before! "Whoa, little dude! You’re gonna be all, like, fluffy before long!" He exclaims, hazel eyes practically glittering as he beholds the fur that’s grown on his nephew’s chest. He supposes it isn’t appropriate to call his nieces and nephews little anymore, seeing as they’re all well into their apprenticeships. But to him, no matter how old they get or how much fur they grow, they’ll always be little kits to him. Hell, the other day he almost called Lilybloom a kit!

His broad smile goes wobbly for a moment—they’re not even his children, but it’s still so wild. His sister’s kits are growing up right before his eyes. Again. He turns to regard Steeppaw with slightly watery eyes. "You’re both getting so big," he says, rubbing a white paw across the bridge of his nose.
​

[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

❝  Youth's a distant and long-forgotten dream to Houndsnarl. As clear as it'd seem on some days, it was moth-ridden and holey the next. He did not recall when his fur first started to grow. In the long moons to come, he'd might even guess that Fern would forget it all the same. But just as he does not remember the fur, Hound can recall pride. Silly as such it must seem to those surrounding him, the feelings were rare enough. He would not poke more holes in this one. Then, perhaps, Fern would not be so eager to forget the pieces'f his past. He watches him with soft, rounded eyes as the young cat admires himself– he does not so much's mumble against it.

This time, the tomcat's amusement glimmers pointedly in a whole other direction: Clayfur. The leggy warrior's grown up a good bit himself, and is certainly old enough to take a bit'f teasing for it all. That teary-edged smile of his is quite enough inspiration. As he comes to the scene, paws quiet and face still far too soft, he shoves himself up to the other warrior for a friendly jostle. "Don't you go cryin' about it now," he huffs, bits of a chuckle lacing the words. "You tear up and I just might have to follow." Whether or not that's the truth– well, it's close enough to it that he's wary of the words as soon as they've left his tongue. Was it odd to say that he cared about the little ones? In a way, he supposes he'd seen 'em grow up just the same, even if they weren't tied by blood. The realization tears the wind from his lungs and leaves him blinking dumbly for a long moment.

"You're lookin' sharp today, Fern," he finally manages to speak up, clumsied by the realization.

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• ──── houndsnarl. trans male, he/him pronouns.
  ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
  ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
• "speech"

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[iciclefang]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Iciclepaw has things to do today, she's sure, but she hesitates in her journey to locate Smokethroat, eyes catching the sparse ginger fur of her youngest littermate. He's gazing at his reflection in the shallow gathered water in camp, pawing a chest that is decidedly fluffier than it has been recently.

Affection warms Iciclepaw's throat with a shrill, glass-thin purr. It's not for others' ears and dissipates as soon as she approaches her kin and Houndsnarl. She sits beside Steeppaw, watching her with amusement as she shoves little Fernpaw hard enough to send him flying if he isn't anchored.

"You're looking less bald today, Fernie," she muses, teeth bared in a grin. "Maybe you'll be as fluffy as Clayfur someday." She gives her uncle a small, reserved smile, then passes it onto Houndsnarl in turn. She doesn't miss the glow of proud tears in Clayfur's eyes, the strange nostalgic look on Houndsnarl's face, but lets herself digest the expressions without comment. Fernpaw is almost looking normal, and she supposes he does deserve to have his moment for that.

- ,,​

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[FERNGILL]

The morning often brought forth faces, and it seemed many today had risen even before him! A considerable chunk of his family, at least- though he was unsurprised that Steeppaw and Iciclepaw were such early risers. The former gave him a greeting, rough-but-affectionate as ever- though Fernpaw failed to suppress the slight yelp of surprise that came with the knock, a light-hearted laugh soon followed. "Maybe," he murmured, hope in his voice.

Uncle Clayfur brought forth his judgement, soon followed by Houndsnarl- both murmured the same sentiment. So it was not some trick of the light- there really was something different! Joy wrote itself even more obviously across his face, the enormity of his eyes for once not spoiling the smile that his tiny maw bore. Iciclepaw remarked, and Fernpaw cast his attention to her. "Thanks, but- I don't think I'll ever be that fluffy!" he murmured, humour still peppering his tone. Uncle Clayfur was big, and there was a lot of pelt to be fluffy! Or- maybe Fernpaw was just small... "And, and- Uncle Clay, Steeppaw's always been big!!" Compared to him, again, but Fernpaw was markedly unaware of the bias he held.

Houndsnarl earned his regard soon after his compliment, the ginger scrap's grin still shining from his features- but before, before, he'd said something weird. Something about crying- and Uncle Clayfur's eyes glistened slightly in the light. "Heyy- you guys aren't sad, are you?" Empathy wobbled Fernpaw's own tone for a moment. What had happened? Had he done something wrong? ​

( penned by pin )​

 

[DogTeeth]

If there was anything he adored from afar, it was the Mudpelt and Icesparkle family. Such a warm bunch, a nice big close-knit group of fluffs. He hopes he gave Peachkit the happiness these youngers had- despite it just being, well, him. His soft rapturous smile suddenly faded, marginally with this call to realism. It was just him, why did he have this strange feeling he owed her more? Aunts, uncles, a proper dad. Dogteeth had siblings, ironically several, he had grown up with a big family- but now, they were cast into the world their own ways.

He needed to get out of this thought, before he sank deeper. Luckily, this comes with the group boosting up the little ginger apprentice for his latest upgrade. He knows the day Peachkit is named Peachpaw, he will be eating his weight in fish and crying uncontrollably. Houndsnarl better not say a damn thing about it neither. He turns his ocean blues to the large man quietly, wondering if he felt lonely too.

" looking good Fernpaw- … what i’d give for a nice soft fluffy coat I can run my claws through! " he boasted, unsheathing a blonde paw and strumming it through his curls only for it to get stuck- he tugs comically for emphasis with a chuckle. " Instead- I get a mess" he hums, finally tugging his claws free from moons of experience.

" grown ups cry over silly things sometimes… we … cherish your youth " he offers words before ultimately settling himself back on the sidelines.

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OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• — Dogteeth | twenty-five moons | cis-male
  — warrior of Riverclan
  — gay | crushing on n/a
  — small curly-furred blonde and tan tom with dazzling blue eyes.
  — very gentle soul / easily upset and sensitive
  — deals a nasty bite | physically medium / mentally easy
  BIOGRAPHY——— ✧
  
• 
  
  

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